chance. She had been trying to find a child-minder, but the only ones she could find at a reasonable price were on the local council estate, and she was concerned about the environment there. The fact that we lived a few miles away precluded daily visits, so Niki thought that a week's 'holiday' with us might be a good starting point, if Irene could bear losing Vincent for that long. When she looked doubtful, I suggested that we all return to our home so that she could see where Vincent would sleep and what he would be doing while he was with us; Irene agreed, and we drove home.
She had a tour of our house and garden, the local children's playground in a beautiful public park, and various other facilities, which were missing, in her home town. She expressed satisfaction that Vincent would be in good hands for at least a week, so we took her home again, collected some clothing and other essentials for Vincent for the coming week, then we returned to our home again with Vincent.
We arrived home to find a police officer waiting for us; we invited her indoors and she took a statement from me regarding the incident in the toilets. She informed me to my surprise that fingerprints on the knife had been checked, and the culprit was well known for his actions, but even more surprising was that his step-father was a assistant county attorney with responsibility for law and order. This attorney knew of his step-son's occasionally feral ways but could do little about it; the boy's mother was completely indulgent and refused to admit that her little darling could do anything wrong. It was a difficult situation for him, but he gave a personal guarantee that if his step-son even looked at Vincent the wrong way in the future, he would ensure that the boy would be put away in a mental institution. When the police officer left, I phoned Irene to tell her what the police officer had told us, and she was relieved that some of the danger to Vincent had been averted.
Vincent's bedtime was now long overdue. Niki made his bed and took him to the bathroom to supervise washing and cleaning teeth. He also had a pee, proudly displaying his little cock to me and asking me when he would be able to hold mine as I had held his earlier. Alarmed, I told him that he must never mention it again unless we were alone- Niki wouldn't approve of my actions. He blushed and apologized, saying that his mother often pleasured him in the same way, so she obviously didn't see anything wrong with it. Niki appeared and said that Vincent's bed was ready, so I told him to change into his pajamas and then I would read him a story to settle him. This I did, and he kissed me goodnight and told me that he had never felt happier than he did at this moment.
III.
My sister-in-law phoned and said that her mother had fallen downstairs and that although nothing was broken, she was in considerable pain and would need help for a few days. My sister-in-law was at that moment about to go on holiday with her family, so Niki agreed to help her mother as necessary. She drove there in the car, leaving Vincent and myself to our own devices. I went to the bathroom and as I was peeing, Vincent came out of his bedroom to use the toilet. He watched me and slowly his little hand moved in the direction of my cock. I smiled at him and he took that as encouragement. When I had finished, he took hold of my dick and started stroking it. As it erected, he looked wide-eyed at it and said, “Gosh m'gosh, it's huge. Did I make it stiff, eh?” “Yes,” I said. “Your hand feels lovely on it.” So he held it a little tighter and massaged it in the same way as I had massaged his the previous day. “I want to wee,” he told me, and proved it by doing just that. As the urine flowed, his morning erection subsided, and when he had finished I told him that we were on our own while Auntie Niki was looking after her mother. “Oh boy m'boy,” he said. “Does that mean we can touch each other's willies?” “If that's what you want.” I said, “but there may also be more interesting things to do with our willies, eh.” I took him into his bedroom and removed his pajamas, then undressed myself. I laid him on his back and took hold of his little penis. I started by licking the closed end of his foreskin, then gradually withdrew the foreskin from the glands as his erection increased. When he was fully erect I applied my tongue to the glands, and received an excited squeal in return. “Oh, that's so peachy-keen-awesome possum, Uncle Jean-Michel,” he said. “Can I do that to you?” By way of reply, I turned around so that we were in a 69-position. I moved my penis towards his waiting mouth and he hungrily engulfed the helmet, his little tongue licking the pee-slit.
I was in heaven, and recalled that this was much better than the last time my wife had done it, several years ago. I warned him that if he continued, my penis would ejaculate in his mouth; he looked surprised and wanted to know what I was talking about. I explained some of the baby-making process, and he asked (predictably) “Does that mean I'll have a baby?” “Oh, no,” I said, “It will just taste a bit strange to you but it won't do you any harm, and it certainly could never give you a baby.” “I want to try it.” I replaced my penis in his mouth and he resumed his sucking action. Very soon the inevitable happened and I warned him of the impending flood. He started swallowing when I ejaculated, and he almost managed to swallow it all, with only a small amount leaking out of the side of his mouth.
“That was nice,” he said. “Eh?”
IV.
After that, I couldn't leave him unsatisfied, so I took his penis into my mouth and started sucking. He sighed when I licked the helmet, groaned when I ran my tongue around the periphery and squeaked when I enveloped the whole two inches plus his scrotum and started sucking hard. “I love that,” he informed me. “Please don't stop.”
I continued sucking, I stroked his anus with a finger. I felt the sphincter muscle twitching, then opening and closing slightly, as though he were trying to draw my finger in. I took a few seconds out from sucking while I wet my finger, then continued inserting the finger while sucking his cock. He started shuddering and I realized that he was having a dry orgasm. The shuddering continued until he arched his back and then returned to lie flat on the bed once more, deathly still. I stopped sucking and removed my finger from his anus, then looked at his face to ensure that he was still awake. He smiled and told me that I had just given him the most wonderful feeling of his life. We dressed in everyday clothes and went downstairs to have some breakfast. Being a Sunday morning, there was not much to watch on TV, so I switched on my computer and trawled the internet while Vincent was sitting on my lap. I found a pornographic site and showed Vincent the real purpose of a man's penis as it displayed sexual intercourse with a woman. He watched as though he couldn't believe his eyes, then remarked that the willies he saw there were much bigger than mine. I had to admit that mine was slightly above average size but that the ones he was watching were well above average; the men were selected for that particular reason. I continued browsing; some gay sites appeared and Vincent was even more amazed that a man could put his willy into another man's bottom.
“They do it because they enjoy it,” I told him. “Sex isn't only for producing babies; its main use these days is for those involved to enjoy the feeling, whether the man is putting it into a woman or another man, eh.” “Could we do that?” he asked, as I had expected, and hoped, he would. “Well, you could put your willy in my bottom quite easily, but if I put mine in yours it would probably hurt at first, although you would enjoy it after you were used to it.”
“I want to try it,” he said. “Can we do it now?” “Not at the moment, I need to recover from this morning's activity. We can do it after lunch if you still want it. In the meantime, we'll go for a walk and then to the children's playground.” We went out and walked one of the nearby footpaths. Vincent had lived almost all his life in a town and was excited at the sights and sounds of the countryside. We reached a river and I showed him how to skim flat stones across the water. He tried to do the same but never managed to develop the required throwing action. We left the river and made for the playground near my home; when he saw the swings Vincent jumped up and down with excitement. There were a few other children playing there, and one boy about Vincent's age sat on the swing next to Vincent and asked me to push him. I spent the next half an hour pushing two boys on swings, then pushing the roundabout with both boys riding it, back to the swings, up and down the slide, and afterwards I was knackered.
The boy introduced himself as Donald, and to my surprise I realized that he was my next-door neighbor. The reason I hadn't seen him before was because he had been away at boarding school, but was now home for the long summer holiday. Donald confirmed that he was eight years old, he told me that both his parents were out at work
